Sampradana
by LondonBelow
Summary: AU. The Bohemians get together for the summer, but Mark feels guilty for the way he treated Roger, Maureen is keeping secrets, and no one likes Allison. sequel to Namaste
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Rent is Jonathan Larson's.

This story is a sequel to Namaste. It could stand on its own, long as you know what's going on. This is a total AU in which all the Bohemians are, literally, related. Benny, Collins and Joanne are siblings. Benny is married to Alison who has a daughter, Mimi, making Mimi Benny's stepdaughter. Mimi is eleven years old. Joanne is a divorcee with two children, Mark and Maureen. Maureen is almost sixteen, Mark is eighteen. Collins is with Angel. Roger is their foster son. He is almost fifteen.

No, I am not on drugs.

* * *

Maureen sat with her legs propped up on the dash. Her cut-offs were short already; dropped from the angle, they bared most of her thighs to the blast of the air conditioner while the sun, through the windows, burned her bare arms and shoulders. She reached into the back seat for the sunscreen, squirted some into her palm and rubbed it onto her shoulders, arms, neck and face.

"Don't forget your legs."

Maureen glanced over at Joanne, who stared steadily at the road ahead, her fingers tightly clutching the wheel. How had she seen? Somehow Joanne always seemed to see, know or sense everything that went on in their home. Maureen was grateful for the reminder about her legs, but she resented it nonetheless, just a lot less grateful when she had to murmur, "Thanks, Mom."

She shook up the bottle and squeezed out a streak of cold lotion across her leg. She shivered and started rubbing it in, then snapped the bottle shut and tossed it into the back seat again. "I still don't get why Mark couldn't come," she murmured.

"Because he needs to take this class," Joanne replied. "He's starting college in the fall, that's a big transition."

Maureen sighed. Yeah, and I'm only fifteen and obviously won't understand anything, so you have to tone it down or Slow Child will get lost, she thought sarcastically. She even toyed with saying it, but just did not want to deal with the repercussions. Joanne would go into major bitch mode, which had been so far avoided this trip. Maureen examined her nails for a moment.

Then she muttered, unhappily, "He doesn't have to."

"Maureen," Joanne said sharply. She immediately felt badly about it. The strange thing was that none of this was Maureen's fault. Mark, the straight-A student, the Ivy man, the boy who never raised a fuss, was at fault. It still was so difficult to believe that Mark was the reason Joanne almost lost contact with her baby brother.

Joanne sighed. "I'm sorry, Ree."

"Don't worry about it," Maureen said. She held up her nails to examine the baby blue polish. Her ring finger on her left hand had a chip. Otherwise, they were perfect.

"He said he'd try to make it out for the weekend," Joanne offered. After a moment, Maureen realized that she meant Mark. She also realized that Mark wasn't likely to make it out that weekend unless Collins, Angel and Roger went home early.

Maureen slipped her feet off the dashboard and sat up straight. The freeway sped by. Signs promised their exit was near. She slipped on her sandals and gathered the ketchup-dappled napkins from the floor and stuffed them into the McDonald's bag. She sucked on the straw and slurped the last dredges of melted ice cubes and something that claimed to be Diet Coke but probably wasn't.

When Joanne pulled off the freeway, she handed Maureen a printout from MapQuest, which made Maureen laugh. "'Cause we only stay here every year, Mom."

Joanne ignored her. She veered off the freeway and drove without looking at the street signs. She knew her way to the house, in fact she probably could have walked it blind, maybe even driven it blind. Joanne would never do a thing like that. The idea was plain foolish. But if, under some circumstances, she had to drive blind, if it was certainly the best idea, if it was somehow safe, Joanne could have done it.

Knowing this, Maureen ignored the directions in her hand. Instead, she stared out the window until Joanne had parked in the driveway, then tumbled out, suitcase in one hand and trash bag in the other. She dumped the trash and ran across the street, flip-flops clapping. Joanne followed after her, more slowly. By the time she reached the house, Maureen was already indoors.

Joanne had just stepped inside and found herself pulled into a hug. She smiled. "Hi, Benny."

Benny pulled back. "Hey, Jo. Come on in."

"Thanks." Joanne dropped her bag on the floor and headed upstairs with Benny. His wife was in the living room, holding their baby. "Hi, Alison." Joanne peered over her shoulder at the baby. "She's beautiful."

Alison smiled. "Thank you. Would you like to hold her?"

In truth, Joanne wasn't sure she wanted to hold the baby. She had never loved babies all that much; even her own had been smelly and noisy and grated on her nerves. She loved them dearly, but they were such little pains at times! But looking from Benny to Alison, she knew the right answer. Whatever Joanne thought about Alison, she would always love Benny.

She sat on the couch. "I'd love to." With the baby safely in her arms, and Alison scared half out of her wits, Joanne asked, "Tom's not here?"

Benny shook his head. "They're running late. Turns out Roger gets carsick."

Joanne couldn't help but ask, "Does he get carsick, or does he get Tom's-bad-driving sick?" and she and Benny both laughed.

Benny was lounged against the doorjamb. "I'm not the one who taught him to drive… if you call that driving!" he retorted, then stuck out his tongue at Joanne. "Anyway, we still have to figure out what to do with everyone. You mind staying with the girls?"

"No," Joanne replied. "But they might." She knew Maureen and Mimi liked to stay up late, playing and talking and painting each other's nails. They seemed to think they couldn't be heard throughout the house, to everyone else's amusement.

Benny nodded. "But if you crash on the couch, we don't have anywhere for Roger."

Joanne shrugged. "Just shove him in with the girls," she suggested. "There's a spare bed."

Alison made a small sound of disapproval. "I really don't think…"

"Why not?" Joanne asked.

"Well… he's a boy, in with the girls, do you really think…?" Alison asked.

It hadn't crossed Joanne's mind that this might be a problem. There were three beds in that room and no door, so nothing inappropriate would happen, and even if it could she trusted Roger and Maureen. "Me, Tom and Benny shared a room whenever we traveled as kids," she reasoned.

Alison hesitated. "Well," she said. She touched her mouth nervously. "Well, yes, but… Roger's…" She gave a superficial cough. "He's a different sort of boy, isn't he?"

Joanne looked at Benny, silently asking him if this wasn't some horrible act. He shook his head, the expected response of _just let it go, Jo._

_to be continued!_

Reviews will be very appreciated!

Also, I'm looking for someone willing to beta-read this story, and if anyone's interested please let me know. It's a bit difficult to explain in a beta request!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Rent is Jonathan Larson's.

"You missed the turnoff, Thomas."

Thomas B. Collins sat behind the wheel of the car, a position he very much regretted at the moment. He had his eyes on the road, and also on the other cars, and the exit signs, and the fields flanking the freeway. He registered what Angel had said, but called, "Red!" before responding, "No, I didn't. Who's winning, Roger?"

Roger made another tally in his notebook. "Mom," he reported, "by about twenty. Did you miss the turnoff?"

"I didn't miss the turnoff! You two, I swear! There's Freedom Airport and Freedom Boulevard, we want Freedom Boulevard. This is why I'm driving." Collins sped up a bit, eager to be off the road, safely parked, without Angel telling him he was doing it wrong. He felt guilty when he noticed Roger adjusting his seatbelt. He hadn't been carsick before, but this trip had taken quite a toll. "Almost there, Rog."

Angel twisted around in her seat. "Why don't you stop with the game? It can't be helping you to write while we're driving."

"You just want to stop while you're winning," Collins replied. "Wait a minute—how is she winning? She hasn't been playing. Look, that's the turn-off." He swerved into the next lane, prompting a burst of obscenities from Angel.

Roger closed his notebook. "Does Joanne's car count?" he asked.

"Sure, honey," Angel replied, "but only once."

"No, it doesn't count," Collins said.

"Well why on earth not?" Angel asked. "It's a car, isn't it?"

"Yeah, a blue car!" Collins replied. "And Benny's is white!"

Roger pressed his hand to his mouth while he laughed. Joanne's car didn't count because it would help his game and hurt Collins'! Just to keep things fair, Roger decided the game only counted for cars spotted on the freeway. He would decide later if the cars had to be on the freeway, or only spotted from the freeway.

He was still grinning when he followed Angel into the house. He considered taking her hand, even reached out, but withdrew at the last minute. He didn't want to be seen holding his mother's hand. Angel wasn't his real mother, either. Roger's grin faded and he stared at his shoes.

"Roger!"

Mimi flew out of the bedroom and slammed into Roger, hard, knocking the wind out of him. She wrapped her arms around him. It took a combination of Roger's grace, the force of gravity, and Collins' hands on his shoulders not to send him sprawling under the eighty-three pounds of flesh, bone and blood that made Mimi.

Half a second passed between Mimi's shout and the three of them realizing that a heated argument was taking place upstairs. Angel and Collins glanced at one another. They knew those voices very well: Alison's shrill wails and Joanne's smooth, impassioned lawyer-voice. "Maureen," Collins called softly.

She stomped in from the back stairs. "They've been at it all day," she informed them. Attitude hardly began to describe it.

"I'll bet," Angel murmured.

Collins laughed. "Yeah, Jo and Alison… Do you remember the way to the beach?" he asked, and Maureen nodded. "Take Mimi and Roger."

Maureen and Roger glowered at him. She gave an indignant scoff, but he whined, "But I…!" He hadn't got the hang of whining quite yet; he was slightly too pragmatic and never used full sentences because those two words conveyed his exact feelings perfectly.

"I know, Roger. You'll only be there an hour at most, just go along with it?" Collins asked hopefully.

Roger's eyes narrowed and his lower lip disappeared under his teeth. They'd only just arrived, and he didn't want to leave Collins and Angel. On the other hand, Alison and Joanne's argument had just risen twenty decibels. Roger nodded. "Bye!" he yelped, shooting out the door with Mimi and Maureen as Joanne shouted, over-enunciating, "Because we judge people on their own merit!"

Collins glanced at Angel. "You sure you don't want to go to the beach, too?" he asked.

She smiled and kissed him. "I won't throw you to the wolves, Thomas."

"Angel," Collins replies, sounding slightly surprised, "that's my sister you're talking about. She's more… an ophiophage."

Angel snickered. She kissed him. "Maybe that'd be a better name for Alison," she teased. She knew her joke was far from kind, but sometimes Angel couldn't help herself. She needed to bleed off a little stress. She needed to be mean.

Collins settled his hands on Angel's hips and laughed as he kissed her. "Angel Marie," he murmured, kissing her neck. "Hm. Hematophage, then."

They were getting stuck into a series of deep kisses when, upstairs, Alison shrieked, "Benjamin!"

No kiss was sweet enough to drown out that shrill cry. Collins and Angel broke apart; he rolled his eyes. "We'd better go," he said, as Joanne jeered, "When you have a thought of your own!"

Collins looked to Angel and continued his thought, "before Joanne kills someone."

"Nonsense. You know hematophages prefer living prey," Angel teased. Collins headed up the stairs, and she followed after him, trying not to smile.

When they reached the kitchen, Angel's smile grew more forward. Joanne and Alison stood on opposite sides of the table, both leaning forward, both looking grim and determined. Benny stood at the end of the table, looking very harassed. All three looked to Collins and Angel when they came into the room.

Benny sighed loudly. He strode across the room and hugged Collins tightly. "Thank God," he moaned. "It's like you and Jo when we were kids."

Collins chuckled. "Good to see you, too, Ben."

Benny gave Collins a shove towards Joanne. "Into the ring, little brother," he said. Then he turned to Angel and hugged her. "Angel, it's wonderful to see you again."

"You, too, Benny. Oh, the kids went down to the beach, hope that's okay…"

Before Benny could reply, Collins and Joanne both began shouting at once so that none of their words were clear, just a lot of angry noise. They were both gesticulating in almost identical fashion, as well, while Alison stood still, looking lost and shocked. After a few minutes, Benny clued her in: "It's not even about you, baby. They're just shouting now."

_to be continued_

Reviews would be very much appreciated.

An ophiophage is an animal that eats snakes. A hematophage drinks blood.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Rent is Jonathan Larson's. I'm just playing with the characters.

Mimi responded to the beach by running, laughing, basically doing the things a kid would do anywhere, but more enthusiastically. Roger smiled. It felt so foreign, this idea of a happy childhood, he almost wanted to study it. Same with the beach: he had never seen the ocean before or walked on sand. He sat down and methodically removed his sneakers, then peeled off his socks and tucked them into his shoes.

Roger pushed his feet into the sand, down to the cool, damp sand, and wriggled his toes. Fighting aside, this was nice.

Maureen, meanwhile, already hated this summer. Everything about it was awful. The shouting, the yelling... it made her want to disappear into the sand. And Mark wasn't here. Usually her only solace when family drama was abundant, Mark had abandoned her. Self-exile, he had called it. Maureen was not used to this feeling of hatred that welled up inside of her... for everyone. Mark included. So she plopped down next to Roger with a huff and leaned her chin on her knees. Sucked that she actually _liked_ Roger... but she was still pissed at him. It was his fault that Mark wasn't here too. "I wish they'd stop."

Roger looked over at Maureen and squinted when the sunlight glared in his eyes. He didn't particularly like Allison, as she made very clear her belief that by dint of being a foster child he was either a murderer or a rapist, violent and depraved and most likely a carrier of ringworm, but he kept that to himself for Angel and Collins' sake. Joanne he liked. She was so sensible and reasoned. The screaming, though, hardly bothered him. They seemed to like tearing into each other, but there was never any violence or anything like that. Still, someone like Maureen wouldn't have such a thick skin.

"They been at it long?" he asked.

"Yeah," Maureen said, unlacing her sandals and digging her feet into the sand. "It's not like they've never had it out before, though, I guess. I don't think they like each other very much." She glanced over, surveying him. Stupid boys. She wished the whole thing between him and Mark hadn't happened at all. Mark could fix this stuff. Or at least he would take her and Mimi down to Denny's just to get away from all the adults. She missed him. Did Roger misses him at all, or hate him?

Roger shrugged. "Happens," he said, glad nonetheless that Collins had suggested the kids get out of the way. Crossfire. Collateral damage. At least Mimi seemed oblivious. She was turning cartwheels in the sand. Roger scooped up a handful and felt it trickle through his fingers. For something that felt so soft under his feet, it was awfully hot and sharp. "Your mom's an intense kind of lady, huh?"

Maureen snorted. "That's putting it lightly," she said. "Mom likes everything her way, you know? Organized, under her own rules. Sometimes I don't even think that she didn't love my dad... I just don't think she could share her life with people who tried to run things out of her lines." She glanced backwards. "I know she doesn't like Allison though."

Roger nodded, though he had liked that about Joanne. He'd noticed that when things were awkward, she took control, and he had noticed the way Collins looked to her. So to him, though she could be somewhat stressful in less dramatic times, Joanne was wonderful. "Do you?" he asked. No one seemed to particularly like Benny's wife. Tolerate seemed more accurate.

"Not particularly," Maureen admitted. "Not that I really know her, you know? Adults don't mingle with us on that kind of level. I'm biased... nobody else seems to like her. She just seems like... she thinks she's better than everybody, you know? Like she's judging everybody. But she'd cute, I guess. Maybe that's why Benny married her…. Why, do you?"

"Nope," Roger replied easily. He trusted Maureen not to go running to the adults, boasting her superiority that Roger--who wasn't _really_ a member of the family at all--didn't like Allison. It was pretty obvious that no one liked her. Still, he didn't mention Collins' impressions of her. Those bordered on mean. He glanced over at Mimi. "She's all right, though."

"Who, Mimi? 'Course she is, she's sweet. For a kid and all. She can be obnoxious as all hell sometimes, but she's alright." Maureen began to bury her feet with her hands. "I don't know why they insist on family gatherings like this. Too many people can't stand each other."

Roger drew his feet out of the damp sand, brushed them off and wriggled them down again, this time staying in the hot, dry layer. He knew Collins liked to see his siblings and their families, and Angel seemed to get along with everyone. It was just Allison who caused problems. Well, Allison and... "Was it like this before I came?"

Maureen was tempted to tell him never. Tell him that everything was sunshine and rainbows before he came, and she dug her fingers deeper into the sand, feeling it sharp under her fingernails. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It's almost always Allison too, and then everyone else loses their cool and it turns into something else entirely. My mother tends to be a part of it often... you know how she is." She bit her lip and couldn't help but say, "But usually Mark takes us down to the beach or out to a movie, so that when we come back it's either blown over or everyone is giving everyone else the silent treatment."

Roger sighed. "You know, I offered to stay home, and I said it wouldn't be weird if Mark came," he said. Actually, he said it _would_ be weird, but asked Angel and Collins not to tell anyone that. He had promised to behave and be sensible. It wasn't his fault. At least, that's what Roger told himself and that's what Angel told him. He hadn't talked about it much with Collins, who had a nasty habit of turning everything into a debate on morals and ethics.

"Oh please, not weird? Who are you kidding?!" she asked, scowling. "People can barely get along as it is right now." She scowled even harder. "He said he wasn't going to come and that you should. It was his choice not to come, not yours. I just miss him, that's all."

Roger sighed. He wanted to belong to this family. He already thought of himself as belonging to Angel and Collins. But he hated this business about having no choice. "People _decide_ to let discomfort get the better of them," he replied. That's what Angel told him, and Roger had worked hard at that. It wasn't easy being a high school student whose foster-mother was a transvestite.

She glanced over at him. "Maybe not everyone is as self-aware and self-assured and confident to fight against that," she said. "Mark lets a LOT bother him, even things that don't concern him. He has this stupid guilt complex... he's a wuss." She kicked her feet out of the sand. "I'm not saying I'm not pissed that this is all happening, but you're not that bad."

"You think I don't know that?" Roger asked. He shook his head. Whatever had passed between him and Mark, it hadn't been just about sex. In the end, after he freaked out, it had, but there had been care in the purer moments. He had cared about Mark. He knew who Mark was, even under everything. "And it's not like I've always been able to..." In a way, Roger knew things were easier now because he was feared at his school. He hadn't faced any real challenges.

"I don't know _what_ you know and what you don't," Maureen said, watching him with serious eyes. She was deeply devoted to her brother, whatever idiot he might be, and Roger had in his own way, hurt him. That wasn't easily forgiven. She wasn't even sure he had ever really liked Mark. Yes, Mark should have known better... _way_ better. What he had done was wrong. "He falls for people sometimes, even if it's wrong and stupid," she told him. "Did you ever like him too? He wouldn't have hurt you, you know, if you had just told him to back off. He's not like that." She glanced at him. "Not like you've always been able to what?"

Roger felt his temper flare up. His whole body felt so hot, and not just from the sun and the sand. As he'd been taught to do, he took a few deep breaths, waiting to calm down. Maureen had no idea what had happened. No one did, besides Mark and Roger. "It's just a thing that happened," he said. "But yeah. I liked him. I'd be his friend."

"Hmph," Maureen said, crossing her arms. She just wished it had never happened at all. Stupid lovesick Mark and his stupid feelings, always fucking things up for himself—literally!—and dragging everybody else with him. And stupid Roger for playing a part in it all. "I don't think we'll see Mark for a long time, so I wouldn't worry about it," she said. "Sorry," she said after a moment of silence, sensing Roger's anger. "I'm just... this is all so fucking stupid!"

Roger sighed and scooped up another handful of sand to drop. "You know, all families do this. All families have gatherings, but most aren't like this. Some people get together and everyone yells and beats up on everyone smaller. And some families get together and no one speaks to anyone else." Roger shrugged. He had been in a lot of families. "At least there's love here."

"I know that." She pouted, drawing a picture of a sun rising over a mountain in the sand. "I know we're very lucky and so on and so on, blah blah." She glanced guiltily at Roger. "Sorry. I know we're lucky. But this still sucks. I don't like being put in the middle and I don't like fighting."

"I guess none of it would mean anything to you," he said. After all, Maureen had always been in this family. She had been in this family before Roger and before Allison. She wouldn't know a family without love. "But they'll sort this out."

"Yeah, just in time for a _new_ family drama to take hold. Don't worry, Roger. You won't be in the center all the time." She bit her lip and wondered if she should even say this. "He asked about you, you know."

Roger bit down a retort about what a brat she was. He couldn't tell if the last remark was some sort of trap or not. Nevertheless, he said, "Tell him whatever will make him happy. That I'm really happy and doing great in school. That I'm miserable and on the verge or a new placement. Whatever."

She turned her head. "But that's not true!" she cried. "Collins and Angel would never send you away. How could you _possibly_ think that would make anyone happy? Mark wouldn't believe that anyway." She scowled. "Jesus, I didn't mean anything by it. I thought you might want to know, that's all."

"I thought it might make _you_ happy," Roger replied. Maureen didn't put a lot of effort into disguising her feelings. "Do you want to tell him the truth, or do you want to tell him what you want him to hear?"

"I'm pissed at you, yeah, but it doesn't mean I want you to leave! Jesus, you're _just_ like Mark! Always have to be such a fucking martyr! I won't tell him anything, if that's what you want. I don't care."

Roger glared at her. "It's not true, by the way," he snarked. "You can tell Mark whatever you like, but the truth is that I'm doing pretty well in school. I run track. We're thinking about getting a dog."

"Fuck it, like I want to be a go-between in that mess anyway," Maureen said. "You fucked up, but he fucked up more." She couldn't help but glance sidelong at him and hopefully asking, "Really? What kind?"

Roger shrugged. "Big one. Like Evita." He wasn't sure it mattered, since Maureen would barely see the dog. In a way, he even knew the dog was for him. Angel like dogs, and Collins was pleasantly indifferent, but Roger _loved_ them.

"Cool," she sighed. "I've always wanted a dog. Mom won't let us have one because she's afraid the hair will go everywhere and she doesn't want accidents or... really, she just won't let us have a dog. When I move out one day, I'm going to get one though."

Roger nodded. He could imagine Joanne not being too cool with the idea of a dog. Dogs tended to un-organize things. They tended to cause messes. "What kind do you think we should get?"

"I like medium size dogs best," Maureen admitted. "But big? I like corgis... I guess that's small too. Retrievers are nice. Why, what kind were you thinking about? You should go to a shelter."

"Yeah, I was thinking the friendliest one at the humane society. You know, something for Dad to lo-- well... not-hate. Corgis are okay, but why not get a cat? Little dogs are weird, they're like cats for dog people, it's... weird..."

She laughed. "They're not the same at all! I mean, I love dachshunds, but it's hardly the same as a tabby! And Mom is just as afraid of cat hair as she is of dog hair. I bet she's OCD, anyway." She hesitated. "You should bring it, if you have it by next time. You know. It might have fun on the beach."

Roger nodded. "Isn't next time Thanksgiving? You'd be at our place, anyway." He sighed and leaned back on the sand. "You want to head back soon, think they're finished screaming at each other?"

"Sure." Maureen stood and picked up her shoes. "Hey," she said, before they start walking up the sand. "Look... I'm sorry about everything I said. I wish what had happened between you and my brother hadn't. I love him. But I like you. You just have to know that he got all the stupid and I got all the bitchiness."

Roger nodded again. "It's okay." He pulled on his sneakers and tied the laces, then hollered, "MIMI!"

She turned and ran over to him. "Look," she said, holding out a seashell.

Roger examined it. "That's pretty. We're gonna head home now, okay?" He looked to Maureen to lead.

"Yeah, come on, Meems," Maureen said, running a hand over the little girl's hair. Then she started towards the house, not looking back.

_To be continued!_

What have I learned so far this quarter? I've learned that nothing is so inspirational as having to sit through a Physics lecture. Reviews are still awesome!


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